


Day 7 - Prayer

by Sang_argente



Series: samifer love week 2016 [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, M/M, Prayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sang_argente/pseuds/Sang_argente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sam learns the benefit of saying his nightly prayers and Lucifer likes giving hugs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 7 - Prayer

After Sam's first meeting with Lucifer, the vivid dream where Lucifer told him he was his vessel, Sam notices that he feels more...open. There's just something that feels different. 

It's not until a random hunt when Dean prays to Castiel that it hits him.

“Wait,” Sam says, a mix of fear and excitement chilling his blood. “You can hear him, wherever you are?”

Castiel nods with a frown.

“What about the rib markings? The ones that are supposed to hide us from all angels?”

“If the prayer is directed to me, I am the only one hears it,” Castiel explains.

Before Sam can ask anything more, Dean distracts him with the hunt. It's really just a simple wendigo hunt, nothing too serious, but they had still wanted to check in with Cas and the Apocalypse. When they make it back to the motel, Sam falls into bed tiredly.

“Get some sleep, Sammy,” Dean says as he crawls into his own bed. “We did good.”

It's so similar to what Dean would tell him when they were young, the little reassurance that came before Sam said his nightly prayers and went to sleep. It's something of the Sam and Dean of the past, when they were still really brothers, that Sam can't help himself. But there's only one angel he wants to pray to anymore.

_“Dear Lucifer,”_ Sam prays, something like nerves or giddiness making him tremble under his blanket. _“I don't really know how I feel about being your vessel or you using me in the Apocalypse, but I always sort of thought you got the short end of the stick and...I'm glad you're free.”_

Warmth flows over him, gentle and comforting, but he falls into sleep before he can question it. When he wakes up, he's more relaxed and refreshed than he's been since he left Stanford. Even Dean notices.

“Someone had their Wheaties this morning,” he comments when he wakes up to coffee, donuts, and two new hunts.

“Just had a good night's sleep is all,” Sam replies, shrugging. He decides then and there to keep praying to Lucifer.

Weeks pass with Sam continuously sending prayers. At first it's just at night before he sleeps but it soon becomes whenever he has something to tell the angel. Sometimes it's sad, sometimes it's angry, sometimes it's just conversation, as one sided as it is. He soon is able to tell what Lucifer is feeling by the rushes of grace that come after his prayers.

_“Please don't try to find Jesse,”_ he prays after the young cambion has disappeared. Amusement tickles his skin and he smiles into his pillow. _“I know you don't need him and I was pretty sure you weren't interested, but I had to ask.”_

_“I got to see Dean as an old man today. It's nice to think he might look like that one day, if we make it out of this alive,”_ is accompanied with soft reassurance rushing through his hair as he stands outside of Patrick's game room.

_“Your brother,”_ Sam practically growls in prayer, laying in bed with an ice pack carefully held between his legs. He sighs when he feels the half-questioning, half-vengeful caress over his bruised hips. _“Gabriel, the so called trickster, could probably beat you and Michael both just by sheer annoyance.”_

_“Please,”_ He begs the night Ellen and Jo die. He practically tears his mind in half, desperate to get his emotions across to Lucifer. _“They didn't deserve that. Please, you're an angel.”_

That's the only night that doesn't end with any kind of graceful acknowledgement. Instead, there's a knock on the motel door and three hours of questioning when Dean sees it's Ellen and Jo. They finally give up and go to bed, Sam and Dean sharing one and Ellen sharing the other with Jo. Sam lays awake all night, his mind overflowing with thanks and his body warmed with Lucifer's smug affection.

The night in the mental hospital and the night Sam spends in someone else's body, there are no prayers. Lucifer still sends what Sam is now acknowledging as grace hugs. Sam curls into the warmth and pretends like nothing else matters.

When they fight Famine, Sam prays from the panic room where he's drying out. _“Why did he do this to me? Was this your plan? I hate this, I want it out of me. Get it out of me. Please, Lucifer, please!”_

He wakes up cold and soaked with sweat, but he's unshackled from the cot that hasn't moved. A blanket he's never seen before is laying on him and he only slightly feel like he's died and come back. He doesn't really understand what's happened until the next time he and Dean come across a demon. It splits its arms open, blood splashing against concrete in an attempt to take Sam down with his addiction. He doesn't even pause before he's shoving Ruby's knife into the demon's chest and wiping the blood off absentmindedly.

“No urge to, uh,” Dean questions as he waves his hand between Sam and the dead demon.

“No,” Sam says without thinking about it, his eyes widening when he understands. “None at all.”

_“Thank you.”_

_“What's wrong with me?”_ Sam asks sadly. They've just come back from Heaven and Dean's out somewhere. Sam doesn't know when, or if, he'll be back and he lays in bed with Dean's amulet clenched in his hand, little horns stabbing into his palm. _“Heaven shouldn't be like that, should it? There must be something wrong with me to make it like that. Something more than the demon blood or being your vessel. I wish you were here to tell me.”_

The night they fight the pagans, the night Lucifer kills his youngest brother, Sam pushes away any self pity and focuses on the angel. _“I'm sorry. I'm sorry that Michael insists on this stupid fight, just because he's got to follow orders. I'm sorry Gabriel got caught I'm the middle. I'm sorry your dad isn't here to take responsibility. Most of all, I'm sorry I haven't said yes sooner. Maybe it would've spared you this pain.”_

_“I know I'm going to say yes,”_ he says the next morning, waking up feeling like he slept wrapped tight in someone's arms. _“When I do, please...please don't take the mistakes I've made out on Dean. I know I don't have a right to ask.”_

When the day comes that Sam does say yes, stands in front of Lucifer for the first time and feels his grace pressing in from all sides, he has to fight the urge to beg. They're joined quicker than a flash, longer than the entire length of creation. It's painful and exhilarating and lovely. It feels as if all the cracks in Sam have all been filled with Lucifer.

_“Made for each other,”_ Lucifer whispers into his mind, soft and kind.

_“I know,”_ Sam says, his soul nearly vibrating with joy. _“Let's do this.”_

**Author's Note:**

> for hey--cassbutt on tumblr for samifer love week.


End file.
